Of Owls and Centipedes
by The Black Goat's Trash
Summary: Like an owl, she followed him. Tracking his every move with her eyes, appearing in front of him at every corner that he has crawled off to. From the moment they meet in that bookstore, he becomes her prey—the prey of a woman who writes tragedies. AU.
1. To you, my dear Noro

"Noro-san."

The hooded giant looked up, the dead mouse trapped in between his tentacles suddenly forgotten.

"What kind of character do you want to be?"

A short-statured girl was looking at him from the other side of the room. Her knees propped against her wooden seat, her body leaning against the back of the chair, and a pencil spinning in between her fingers with a fluidity that he couldn't hope to imitate. The girl's hair took the form of multiple green strands that barely reached past her shoulder, each strand covered in a substantial amount of grease and filth from the lack of regular cleaning. Her skin and clothes were also not exempt from contamination, as the redness of dried blood and the brownness of earthly filth stood out against the whiteness of her shirt and the blackness of her pants. Yet, in spite of her filthy exterior, in a sense, Noro still found her to be somewhat pristine. Perhaps, it was pristine innocence.

Positioned behind the girl was an old patio table of aged wood and cracked planks. On top of it, at the far right corner, lied a stack of timeworn storybooks, all of them detailing varying fairy tales, folktales, myths, and legends. Lying near the center of the table was a spiral notebook that possessed damaged pages of wrinkles and blurred lines as a result of accidental water exposure. Occupying the left corner of the table, balancing a flickering on top of its ebony wick was a half-melted candle, stuck to the wooden surface by a glob of solidified wax.

"...I haven't really thought about it." Noro made the connection right away. The girl had been blabbering about wanting to write a book recently.

His honest answer drew a look of disappointment on the girl's face, but it was quickly buried by her usual cheerfulness as her mouth curled into a small grin.

"Do you want to know what kind of character I want to be?"

Noro could tell that there was something behind those shut teeth that made her grin the way she did. Something that she had to exert great effort to keep behind the glossy bars of her oral prison. But he knew that the girl wouldn't tell him what it was just yet. At least not until he humored her enough.

"A princess perhaps?" He ventured a lazy guess, his attention shifting back to the rat trapped inside the grip of his kagune. To quench his boredom, he gave the rat another squeeze and was delighted to hear the sound of cracking bones. Perhaps he missed a few earlier.

The girl scoffed.

"A princess? That is so last year. If anything I—"

Suddenly, she stopped, having noticed her caretaker's inattentiveness. Catching the rotating pencil in between her index and thumb finger, the girl tossed it towards her caretaker head first, as if she was throwing a simple dart. The projectile didn't reach its target, though, as Noro casually snatched it off the air with his own fingers and proceeded to snap it in half. There wasn't even a need for him to look up.

Seeing the destruction of her pencil, the girl let out a cry of distress. "Oh no, not Tobi!"

"Tobi?" There was an unfamiliar shift in the robed man's usual serene and uninterested facial feature. It was a smile. A smile of amusement that hid at the corner of the man's lips. It was barely noticeable, but Eto was proud to have triggered it.

"You should stop talking to your pencils and start making real friends, Eto."

At his words, Eto pouted. Her cheeks inflated as she displayed her obvious annoyance. "It's not my fault no one around here wants to play with me. Apparently I looked too weird to them or something."

A single hand fell on top of her left eye, and bitter resentment weaved itself into her next words. "I blame everything on my birth defect."

The room fell silent, as Eto waited for some sort of response from her caretaker while said caretaker chose to remain silent and continued to toy away at the dead rat. The girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion. What was originally just an attempt at entertainment now seemed far less innocent. It was as if he was using his antics with the rat as an excuse for his silence. Eto could tell that he was hiding something, but made no effort to draw further attention to it.

The robed man was always a bit of an enigma. In that even though they had already spent eight years with each other, Eto's knowledge of her caretaker was still minimal at best. She still couldn't tell what kind of things he liked to do for leisure, or how his childhood was, or even more important questions like what kind of women he preferred. Instead, she was forced to make guesses and assumptions whenever she caught her caretaker's eyes lingering on a woman for a tad bit too long, while she stared at those women with a little more hatred than usual. All she knew was that her father assigned Noro to her and that he was dark, brooding, caring and handsome.

"Noro-san, do you think I'm pretty?" The words left Eto's mouth before she could stop it and the girl quickly hid her face behind the back of the chair to avoid her caretaker's curious gaze. Though she didn't try to retract the question, as it was something that she was genuinely interested in.

Her question was followed by a prolonged silence as the sheer awkwardness present in the room fueled the growing redness of the girl's face. At this point, the girl was pretty sure what the answer would be and was upset with herself for leading her self-esteem into this brutal murder.

"I'm going to go hunt for some food." The man finally spoke. Eto only nodded in acknowledgment at his words. She wasn't surprised. She would want to find an excuse to remove herself from the room as well if she was asked such a strange question.

"You want to come with?"

It was an unexpected invitation, but one that she appreciated. "Yeah."

In her story, she was a character of god-like power. And with the power she possessed, she would spread joy to those who deserved it and pain to those who didn't. The world that she lived in was one that she designed personally. It was a world where discrimination of any kind had long ceased to exist, and ghouls and human can live harmoniously. It was a world where she could relish in the warmth of her parents' bosoms and grasps their hands with her own. But most importantly, it was a world where she would mature into a desirable bride, with Noro, the person who had cared for her for twelve years as her groom.

But she supposed she would keep those thoughts to herself. At least, she would for now.

* * *

"Noro-san...do you think I'm a piece of trash?"

In front of them was a collection of bodies, all of them deprived of life and forced to remain stacked on top of one another until it was their turn to face the trials and tribulations of pointed teeth and robust jaws. Surrounding the mountain of broken corpses was a miniature fence of disembodied hands and legs, and if one tried hard enough, one would be able to spot an occasional eyeball sandwiched in between those limbs. A slippery veil of red covered the floor of the tunnel—a direct result of the carnage that unfolded just mere moments ago.

"I mean I wasn't able to put anything you taught me into use. And—" What initially started as calm self-deprecation proved to be a nothing but a fragile illusion, as the cracks of the girl's voice betrayed her and exposed her emotional vulnerability. Her remaining words became lost in a series of sobs, as tears trickled down her cheeks restlessly.

Sitting to her right, panting heavily against the granite wall, was her long-haired caretaker. One of his hands covered the bleeding hole drilled into his waist while the other hand held up a half-eaten leg that he had removed from his fallen enemies. The spaces in between his teeth were filled with pieces of minced meat, and the man's face, which was usually stoic in appearance, had contorted into one of visible agony. It was her incompetence that caused her caretaker to get hurt, and that thought alone was enough to cause a familiar pain to surface in her chest again. For Eto, the pain in her chest was worse than any physical injury that she could have sustained, because unlike physical injuries, she knew the pain wouldn't just go away in a few seconds when her body finished repairing itself.

The hooded man eyed the girl tentatively, unsure of what to say. It was obvious that their enemies' trash talking had done some lasting damage and that the girl needed some words of comfort after her lack of performance in combat, but at the same time the man found himself unable to completely ignore the frustration that he felt when he once again had to put his own life in jeopardy to save her's. The kid was simply too clumsy and too weak-willed, in that the slightest of miscalculation would be enough to send the child into a panic-stricken state where her footwork becomes erratic and her entire world become solely inhabited by an overwhelming fear of death. Noticing his silence was causing the girl further harm, Noroi ultimately decided to shove his own personal feelings aside. "...I'm sure you were just caught of guard. Don't worry about it, I wasn't expecting there to be so many of them either."

The much taller ghoul's answer wasn't enough to satisfy the younger ghoul as she pressed on. "But what if I wasn't caught off guard? What if I was just too weak to do anything? What if one day I—"

A dismembered arm was thrown in front of the girl, as the older ghoul cut off her rambling with a suggestion. "In that case, then you should eat more often."

Eto looked at the disembodied arm set in front of uncomprehendingly, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the recalling of the meat's putrid taste. She then shifted her gaze towards her wounded caretaker, the expression of confusion and disgust on her face masking the feeling of anger bubbling underneath. The correlation between eating foul-tasting meat and her gaining strength was lost on the girl, so the older ghoul's advice felt more like an attempt to distract her from an uncomfortable subject rather than words with a genuine intent to help. "Eat more? What? Is feeding me these rotten meats once per month not enough for you. If you think I'm useless, just say it. Don't try to change the subject—"

Noro remained unfazed under the intensity of his ward's emotional tirade but instead raised his voice accordingly to talk over her, though not loud to the point that it would suggest anger or frustration. "By eating the "rotten meats," you will increase the concentration of RC Cells in your body. With enough RC Cells, a kagune mutation known as "kakuja" might be possible. Obtaining a "kakuja" will be your objective."

The girl went silent, her eyes traveling back to the dismembered limb offered to her and lingered there as she stared at it in momentary consideration. When she turned to face Noro again, the look disgust, anger, and confusion had been replaced by one of uneasy skepticism. "And that "kakuja" is supposed to be able to help me out?"

"Yes, if you can get it to cover your entire body, I believe you could afford to get hit a couple times or two in battle."

A pale hand seized the dismembered leg and brought it up to her mouth, her pink lips parting away as they revealed the pearly blades hidden underneath. The girl lowered the meat before she could take a bite out of it, having decided that whatever power her caretaker was talking about wasn't worth shoving down such foul tasting food down her mouth.

"You know, your father also had a kakuja—"

She took a bite out of the leg and swallowed.

* * *

There had been rumors that suspicious individuals were wandering the grounds of the 24th ward once again.

She said she wanted to go with him. She told him that she wanted to defend her home with her own hands. But he told her to stay, telling her that it was too dangerous, that it was different from the hunting sessions that they partook in together, that she could get seriously hurt, that he might not be able to protect him, and that he wouldn't know what to do if he lost her. Even though she knew that the man's words had no romantic implications, it still made her happy that someone would be lost without her, that someone valued her to the extent that they would rather only endanger themselves than to drag her down with them.

When the older ghoul gave her a pat on the head and an affectionate smile, the girl found her unspoken worries and unexpressed concerns vanquished in an instant. A smile was a commodity that the older man's face rarely carried, but it was always something that inspired confidence and admiration within the young ghoul when it was carried. She always thought her caretaker looked better whenever he smiled, but like many of her other grotesquely inappropriate thoughts for the much older man, she decided to keep the thought to herself.

Before he left, the man instructed her to dig around the area under her bed, claiming that she would find something that belonged to her if she did. She thought it was a gift that he had prepared for her, so she told him that she would wait for him to give it to her himself. After he came back, of course.

"Noro-san, you will come back right?" She called out as the older man took steps towards the entranceway of the cavern, momentarily freezing him in place.

"I'll try." It was an answer that promised nothing, but she thought it was good enough.

So, as the hooded ghoul took the final steps towards the exit of the room and disappeared behind the walls, the younger ghoul sat on her bed...and waited.

* * *

She wiped them all out. The briefcase-carrying men. She killed them all. The ones who stayed behind, at least.

The floor of the tunnel was littered with the corpses of fallen investigators. Their quinques scattered uselessly across the battlefield, all of them to never see any usage again. Murderous crystallines of crimson color decorated their bodies, depriving their body of sense and their eyes of light.

A lone ghoul walked through the carpet of corpses, her steps steady and her disposition pleasant. When she came across the body of a blonde investigator, she stopped and pulled the woman up by the bloody blonde locks attached to her head. She could tell that the investigator was still alive, even if barely.

"Go to hell."

The ghoul smirked and put a hand through the blonde investigator. A scream of pain. The hand exits, pulling with it the remains of a human intestine.

She let go of the investigator's hair and allowed the blonde-haired woman to fall face first onto the floor. She then stood patiently as she waited for another response from the investigator.

"Go...to...hell." The woman barely managed to squeeze the words out of her dying body, but it still possessed the same level of defiance and power as before. Powerful purple eyes bore into the lone ghoul with their angry gaze, unwilling to falter in intensity even as the soles of the ghoul's feet hovered above them.

It was quite unnerving how she saw no fear in the dying woman's eyes. It displeased her greatly. It confused her greatly. With a stomp of her foot, she crushed the very things that caused her such distress, shattering the woman's skull and flattening the woman's brain in the process.

Crouching down, the ghoul took a bite out of the woman's flesh. Then another and another. The sweet taste of human flesh driving her into a frenzy as she attacked the remains of the woman with her teeth. Only when she devoured both of the woman's legs did she manage to stop herself.

She might have won the battle today, but she knew she was far from winning the war. She needed to send a message to the "doves." Ripping out the woman's heart, the young ghoul took a bite out of the meaty organ before tossing it to the other side of the tunnel with great reluctance. Removing another sizable chunk of flesh from the female investigator's body, the young ghoul proceeded to make her way home, both eating and discarding pieces of the woman's flesh in the process. All the while pondering the question that had been on her mind for a while.

"Noro-san, if you were here right now, would you be proud of me?"


	2. The Color of Gray

Eto followed the trail of corpses scattered across the deserted complex in, her curiosity spurring her on as her bandaged feet splashed against puddles upon puddles of blood, leaving behind a trail of crimson footsteps.

The streets had long since been purged of their human inhabitants by the moon's sinister glow, freeing them up for red-eyed charlatans like her to wander about.

The moon overlooking them was red tonight—something the girl noticed long before this operation even began. Her comrade's panicked tones were something that she remembered, and their foolish proclamation that the red-tinted sphere was a sign of an imminent disaster was the thing that she laughed at. Naturally, in an attempt to keep the team together, the more educated members of her group tried to explain the phenomena away by calling it the result of a lunar eclipse and reassured them that the world wasn't going to end anytime soon.

As calming as that explanation was, Eto wasn't too fond of it—she liked the "apocalypse" idea better.

She wanted the world destroyed. To her, a world not worth living in was not worth preserving.

Her trail of corpse came to an end, with her last clue being a decapitated head resting just a few feet short from the entrance of a skyscraper.

 _Perhaps,_ the girl thought to herself, _he fled inside the building_.

She sent a look towards the towering building and inspected the double glass door of the entrance with extra scrutiny.

There were no signs of forced entry, the glassy surface remained perfectly intact and possessed not a single imperfection that would suggest a fracture of some sort. She highly doubted that the man would have a way inside the building without the usage of brute force.

After all, his life was basically ruined when he was captured by the CCG and exposed as a ghoul. Posters of his face were probably posted all over the neighborhood and the local police station, warning the citizens of concealed danger as well as encouraging them to contact the proper authority should the alleged criminal be spotted.

Even if the CCG decided to forgo the process of informing and decided to keep the reason of the man's detention a secret, the citizens themselves would start spreading rumors.

People often tried to compensate for their ignorance by making up things to make themselves feel informed. She bet that was probably how the whole "red moon is a sign of the apocalypse" rumor was started.

However, although the entrance of the building wasn't damaged, the girl couldn't say the same for the windows that decorated each distinctive floor of the skyscraper. An entire column of the glass panels was damaged, their translucent surface marred by spider-web fractures and circular trenches.

The punctures on the glass were all similar in structure, suggesting that the same item was used to create them.

At the same time, the fact that only a single column was destroyed hinted at a calculated cause of destruction rather than a mindless one.

Maybe he climbed to the roof of the building? That thought made the most sense to Eto. With those kagunes of his, he could easily used them to anchor himself to the side of the building while he pulled himself up.

Having accepted her own deduction as the truth, the girl estimated the distance between herself and the top of the skyscraper, her own kagune emerging from her shoulders in a bubbling concoction of blood and flesh.

The building was approximately 200 meters in height, meaning even she wouldn't be able to reach the top of the building with her kagune in one go. At least she wouldn't be able to do it without risking the possibility of stretching her kagune too thin.

Just like her prey, she had to scale the building a little at a time.

Shaping her kagune into a claw, Eto launched it towards a section of the building that was a quarter of the way above ground. Upon reaching its intended destination, the monstrous limb burst through the window, its entrance accompanied by the choir of shattering glass and the ballad of flying shrapnels. With one swoop, the hand was on top of the elaborately decorated flooring of the skyscraper, its fingers digging through the expensive material effortlessly as it established a strong, suitable connection.

A silhouette of a smile could be seen on the girl's bandaged face as she tested the connection between her modified kagune and the building with a few cursory tugs. She just hoped that her prey would stay around long enough to justify all the effort that she had put in to set up a meeting between them. With one swift flick of her kagune, the girl sent herself rocketing upwards.

Like a feather in the wind, Eto landed on the roof soundlessly and elegantly. Her monstrous kagune followed her shortly afterward, slithering into the cavity of her opened shoulder as it returned to its primal, dormant form.

"Another one?"

She ignored his previous comment and instead moved to take over the pace of the conversation. "Tonight's weather is rather nice, don't you think?"

The other man on the roof chuckled, before beckoning her to come closer with a gesture from his gold-clad finger.

She complied, her feet taking her to the center of the rooftop, bringing her closer to the bulky, suit-donning man that she had been conversing with.

"I thought Halloween was over a while ago. Yet, tonight, I still found myself to be bothered by a bunch of people in silly costumes. Say, were they your friends?" A thorned tentacle slid through the fabric of the man's suit silently, and another one followed soon afterward.

"Yup! Too bad they were all scattered, though. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to go through the night by myself." Eto took another step towards the white-suited man, her eyes scrolling towards the thinly concealed tentacles, dismissed them, and returned to face the man directly.

"Don't worry. Uncle Yamori will be sure to bring you home."

"Oh really? Uncle Yamori is the best!"

Disingenuous squeals and empty compliments were used to continue the meaningless act, but both of them knew that their charade was about to end. And Yamori decided he would be the one to end it.

"I wonder which part of you your parents would want to see first. Your arms, your feet, your head, or your intestines?" The man's face, which once wore a peaceful expression, had now twisted into a devilish sneer.

"CHOOSE!" He bellowed as his kagune surged forward. But the smaller ghoul disappeared before the tentacles could hit their mark.

Yamori blinked, confused by how someone who was in front of him just seconds ago could have disappeared without a trace.

He couldn't see her anymore, the little ghoul he was just conversing with. His eyes darted wildly around the battlefield, until a sound coming from underneath caught their attention.

"You know, I don't think your mother would approve of your manners."

The ghoul that he was looking for was now standing right in front of him, at a distance that was too close for his comfort.

 _What?_ Yamori stumbled backward, hoping to create enough space to recover, Eto followed closely, breaking into a run and propelling herself into a jump as she stuck both of her thumbs into Yamori's eye sockets. The man screamed before he could stop himself.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!"

Eto pulled her thumbs from Yamori's eyes with a slight grunt and moved away from the strikes of Yamori's retracting kagune with a single backflip. As she landed, her own kagune materialized, perching on top of both of her shoulders in its blade-like form.

She had just crushed her opponent's eyes, giving her at least 20 seconds to act while her opponent stayed in total darkness. Eto quickly went on the offensive again, her blades dancing across her opponent's limbs, severing what needed to be severed, and shearing what needed to be sheared.

When she finished, she was already several feet away from her opponent, her kagune dissipating as Yamori's body crumbled behind her.

The man who had once been so confident in his own victory now lied on the rooftop, his regenerated eyes pointed towards the night sky idly. A mere head and torso was what he had become. His hands and legs, which were once attached firmly to his body, were now severed and scattered around the battlefield alongside the butchered remains of his kagune. The white suit that he once wore with immense pride was riddled with countless cuts and spoiled by the color of his own blood. He was defeated, completely, easily, and utterly one-sidedly. That much was something that even his own muddled head could register.

A bandaged foot pressed itself on top of the Yamori's throat, keeping the brawny man pinned to the floor. "Well, I guess it is over now. You were quite the disappointment if I do have to say so myself."

No real retort came from the ghoul pressed underneath her, instead, the man just bore his teeth against her in a subtle but noticeable act of final defiance, his face now wearing the color of red as a product of both suffocation and anger.

"But it seems like you do have some rationality. Knowing the difference in our strength, you decided to stay quiet instead of doing anything that might get me angry." The girl stepped off, the absence of her foot on Yamori's throat causing his body to tremble wildly as the man was attacked by a series of coughs. All the while Eto lingered around her subdued enemy's body in a parade of skips and hops as she danced about in circles. "Say, do Uncle Yamori believe in Stockholm syndrome?"

"...Stockholm syndrome?"

"It is a phenomenon where the kidnapped starts feeling sympathetic towards their captors." The bandaged girl explained, her body pirouetting to a stop by Yamori's head. "Personally, I don't believe it. I mean if I was kidnapped and put into danger due to the selfish actions of another person, the last thing I would do is to defend and sympathize with the person who kidnapped me."

Yamori's face was one of a confused man. "What exactly are you getting at?" His regenerative power had already kicked in, his arms and legs, which were once leaking blood from the forced amputations had now transformed into fleshy stumps. The reconstruction of his body was still incomplete, however, keeping him at a state of vulnerability.

A smile blossomed underneath the ghoul's bandaged face. "What I'm saying is, that I'm interested in forming a business relationship with you." Eto then squatted down, her hands framing each side of her face, projecting an impression of sincere attentiveness. "Tell me, Omori Yakumo, what do you desire?"

They stayed that way for a while, staring into each other's eyes as they searched for signs of deceit and insincerity. It was only with the sound of crumbling concrete did the duo take their attention off of each other in favor of finding the cause of the noise. A red kagune had latched onto the edge of the rooftop when neither of them were paying attention, and Eto smiled when she saw who was on the other end of the crimson tentacle.

"I take it everything is finished over here." A white-haired man was the one who spoke, his exposed crimson eyes conveying the disinterest and displeasure that the rest of his face could not.

"Yup!" The tiny mummy beamed. "Eto finished everything so Tatara-san wouldn't have to get his own hands dirty."

"Oh, is that so?" The man's voice slid through the mask of iron cladded over his face as he approached the defeated Yamori and his bandaged ally.

Shortly after his towering presence reached them, the Chinese ghoul did a cursory scan of the dismembered ghoul's body, taking in every scars and stream of blood that still existed. "You're dirty." He remarked bluntly after a moment of inspection, successfully invoking the blonde gangster's ire.

Thorned tentacles once again erupted from the suited ghoul's back and barreled towards the white haired man who had just shown up. Without even flinching the Chinese ghoul swung his arm in a horizontal chop, and like a knife slicing through butter, he sliced through the tentacles. The section of the kagune no longer attached to his kakuhou dissipated into a mist of RC cells as the blonde ghoul's eyes widened in shock. "Tsk."

"Please stop with the meaningless resistance." Tatara's eyes were still dull and uninterested, as if the ghoul who had just tried to attack him was nothing but an insignificant annoyance. A minor character in a storybook that existed only to serve a one-time purpose and disappear without a trace afterwards.

Eto chuckled and stood up after observing the brief skirmish. "Tatara-san, you have to admit, though, what he did just now took courage. I'm sure he would be much happier to negotiate peacefully in a more calming environment." She then turned towards the supine ghoul laying by her feet and spoke with a sweetness and pleasantness that her eyes betrayed. "Am I right, Yamori-san?"

Yamori didn't answer, just seething in silent anger. This was a situation he didn't want to be in again. He hated vulnerability. He hated not being able to do anything while others have their way with him. Bad memories that he had taken so much effort to suppress came rushing back at him all at once. Memories of that interrogator. Memories of getting his face bashed in. Memories of getting his fingers chopped off. Memories of screaming for his mother.

Tatara turned away, his hands pointing a black flare gun towards the sky. A steady billow of green smoke ascended the evening sky at the press of the trigger, and many more soon followed, relaying the success of the operation to the other members of Aogiri.

"Let's take him back," Eto said as she started to walk away, moving towards the edge of the rooftop where she planned on making her exit. Tatara followed silently, his kagune wrapped around Yamori's torso and dragged the ghoul along in spite of his protests.

Suddenly, Eto stopped, as if sensing something massive in the air and stepped back, her body bending backwards just as a surging stream of electricity overtook where she once stood—the golden electricity mere millimeters away from tickling the fabric of her bandages.

Without missing a beat, she spun around and quickly located her attacker while her mind slapped a name on him.

Kishou Arima. The CCG's "Reaper." A troublesome opponent that she would rather not deal with at the moment.

The investigator, however, shared none of her reluctance and quickly repositioned himself. The metallic panels of Narukami once again zoomed in on the ghoul wrapped in bandages, and a bolt of lightning quickly followed.

Like what she did before, Eto dodged. Her body sprinting to the side as the condensed blast split through the concrete composition of the rooftop.

"Run." She ordered, turning towards her red-masked subordinate, who obeyed her wish right way and took off in the opposite direction, his feet taking him to the edge of the rooftop, with Yamori towed behind him. When an electricity blast surged towards her escaping comrade, she threw herself in front of the sparkling projectile and absorbed the attack in its entirety with her own bones and flesh. She slumped down and dropped down to her knees, feeling the aftermath of her rash behavior. The side effect of the blast leaving her in a state of weakness, unable to move properly until her muscles regain their strength.

It was just within character for the CCG to show up at this juncture of the turf war. The organization always reminded her more of vultures than the doves that it was commonly associated with—always pecking at dead carcasses and benefitting from someone else's work.

But as much as Eto would like to take this opportunity to punish them for their wrongdoings, this was simply not the right time. Kishou Arima didn't come to the rooftop by himself, but brought six underlings with him, each of which dressed in an identical manner and had their face concealed by the hood of their coats. This time, she was the one left alone—completely devoid of backup and susceptible to ending her own life with one mistake.

Sometimes she wished that her playmates would play a little bit more fair.

In an instant, Arima closed the distance between them, his right arm swinging the razor-sharp edge of his transformed Narukami towards the ghoul's neck.

The girl raised her arms up out of instinct and blocked the hit with her arms, facing the incoming blade with no other defense except the hardness of her skin. The white blade struck through, and she lost the usage of her hands. The portion of her arms that were severed by the blade of Narukami dropped to the ground with a barely audible thud, too insignificant for either one of the combatant's notice.

A slice aimed towards the waist kept the pressure on Eto, forcing her to leap further backwards to avoid the archway of the approaching blade. Like usual, he was showing no mercy. She too was getting weary of this charade. This superficial posturing.

"If you want to live. Work for it, huh." The girl muttered as she dodged another one of her opponent's strikes.

Narukami once again changed forms, its blade reverting back into four distinctive rectangular panels, and fired off another wave of electrical energy.

This time, knowing she had fulfilled her purpose, she allowed herself to get hit. Her body recoiled awkwardly from the intensity of the blast, causing her to stagger backwards clumsily and bringing her closer to the edge of the rectangular rooftops.

Arima caught her before her body flipped over the edge, the quinque wedged in her heart the only thing keeping her still. Dazed, Eto stared up at the man, her eyes studying the grayness hidden underneath the thick lenses of his spectacles. His eyes was a color of apathy, a color of indifference. It was a color truly befitting of a man who had killed and would kill again.

She never liked the color of gray. The color's dull fence-sitter attitude always annoyed her. But at that moment, she found it to be the most fascinating thing in the world. She saw a reflection of herself in his eyes of tranquil indifference. His eyes reminded her of how her own eyes looked in the mirror before she forced life into them every morning.

With a gentle push, the stoic investigator slid her body off the blade of his prized quinque and offered her to the wind.

* * *

"Here you go."

Another book signed and delivered to the hands of her admirers. Another book shoved her way.

"Takatsuki-sensei, the last couple chapters of your newest work really kept me on the edge of my seat. I heard that you had a lot of trouble writing those, but I have to say, I really couldn't tell by those chapters' smoothness and fluidity."

She flipped open the cover, her hand scribbling her signature on a blank page of the book while her ears listened to the words of her fan. When she finished, she gently closed the cover and handed it back to the man standing in front of her, a grateful smile forced on her face as she donned the mask of humility and modesty.

She thanked the man for his kind words before she joked about how she overcame her writer's block one night when she was staring at her computer screen and her hands just suddenly started typing uncontrollably, as if her old pair of hands, which had caused her inability to write a satisfying chapter, had been replaced by a pair of new ones.

The fan left shortly after he received his book, the abundantly apparent smile on his face letting Eto know that he was pleased by her sense of humor.

She waited patiently while the line in front of her shifted again, this time, her visitor was an elderly woman in her mid-forties, who asked her to sign the book for her son who couldn't make it due to illness. Just like how she did for her previous visitors, Eto spoke to the elderly woman kindly, threw her baits for a brief conversation, and wished her son a swift recovery before the woman left.

Reaching for the cup of coffee set on her table, Eto took a sip, the putrid taste of the caffeinated drink filling the interiors of her mouth. She quickly set the cup down and consciously resisted from grimacing. It was the favored drink of a certain fool. She wasn't surprised that she didn't hold the same appreciation for the drink that he did.

Her line shifted again, and a black haired boy stepped up, her book held firmly nestled against his chest. At first glance, she could tell that he would be the shy, meek, and reserved type that was easily bullied. Her prediction wasn't wrong, as the boy proved to be a tongue-tied fool. Any words he did say came out in stutters and mumbles, too disjointed and too quiet for her to understand him.

Meek, innocent, vulnerable and utterly incoherent around a woman of similar age. The boy reminded her of the novel protagonists that she loved to corrupt and ruin.

With a smile, she tried to put the boy at ease. "Hello there, you want me to sign your book?" She said, pointing towards the hard-covered copy of her latest work that the boy had in his possession.

"Y-yeah." Relief washed over the boy's face as he handed over his book.

"May I ask you what your name is, young man?"

"K-Ken."

He gathered himself shortly after that, and proceeded to reintroduce with notably more confidence, giving her his full name this time. "Kaneki Ken."

It was then that she noticed it—the grayness of his eyes.


	3. Conversation

He stood there, breathing in the aroma of Sen's coffee as he watched her wordlessly, out of respect for the author and the task that she had dedicated herself to. The head of the bookish woman was bent down in concentration, her eyes fixated on the pristine paper while the guidance of her swaying hand etched delicate ink trails on top of the ivory surface. "Ah, even your handwriting is good," he wanted to say, but restrained himself out of the fear of embarrassment.

With final delicate touches by the tip of her pen, the woman gently folded the book close and held it in front of her with both of her hands for him to receive. "Here."

He blinked, having grown unaware of his surroundings by the preoccupation of his own thoughts. When he refocused on reality, he found himself looking at his hard-covered book and the delicate hands that held them.

"O-oh thanks." He stammered, taking the book from the woman at a pace too quick to be considered casual.

Quickly, the boy reminded himself of his plans, and with a nervous gulp, he forced his reluctant body to go through with it, hoping that his saliva had carried his insecurities and anxieties down with it. He had planned on impressing the girl in front of her with intelligent words, charm her with the lines the he had been rehearsing ever since the first time he laid an eye on her photograph. Imaginary scenarios of "what if I say this" and "what if she says that" were something that was frequently role-played in his head, and he knew that these scenarios would forever remain a mere fantasy if he spoke with a reluctant tongue.

"Um." He started, but cut himself off, unsure on what to say next.

"Hm?" The girl answered, imploring him to continue. And it was that exact moment, when he met the girl's gaze, that he found his mind growing a bit fuzzy. Suddenly, he had no idea what he was doing anymore.

Words left his mouth like water falling out of a drippy faucet as he spoke with the elegance of a rambling, stammering fool. Still, even in his state of debatable coherence, he found himself unwilling to stop; especially not when each literary references and analogies that he made, and each revelation of the minuscule details he picked up from her books were met with a friendly smile and nods of approval.

By the time he walked out of the bookstore, there was a strange fostering warmness within the pits of his stomach; it was a sensation that he recognized but seldom experienced. He only took a few steps before he stopped, now in front of the intersection. His hands opened the signed hard-covered book in gentle motions as the urge to revisit Takatsuki Sen's handwriting struck him. Feasting eyes fell upon the white canvas, tracing each feminine strokes with his bare eyes, then suddenly, he shut the book, as if he had seen something that he wasn't supposed to. He tossed his head up, and with rose-tinted cheeks, he waited for an interruption in the traffic, trying to not think too much of the heart sketched next to Sen's signature.

* * *

"Now, isn't that nice?"

He looked up from the colorful mixtures of his ice cream parfait; his metallic spoon planted firmly within the depths the creamy sweetness. "What?"

Sitting across of him in this small ice cream parlor was a blonde haired boy of carefree disposition. The end of a metallic spoon could be seen in his mouth even as he rocked back and forth in his chair. "To be able to talk to the girl of your dreams and have her not be a bitch, I mean." He proceeded to wipe an imaginary tear off his face, as if upset by this supposed "injustice".

"Make sure to remember to invite me to your wedding. Though I suppose it will be impossible for you to forget since I'm your only friend. Haha."

"S-she's not the girl of my dreams!" He stammered, speaking a bit too loudly to be convincing. "I just admire her work that's all!"

When he caught his friend eyeing his cup of ice cream with envious gaze, he had a feeling that his previously words had fallen on deaf ears. Sighing, he put a protective hand around the glass container of his parfait, and drew the dessert closer to himself. "I'm not sharing my parfait with you, by the way."

"Come on, Kaneki!"

"Nope!"

In what seemed to be a last resort, the blonde boy sprawled himself across the table, his hands reaching for his friend's dessert as he pleaded with puppy-dog eyes. "Pweaaaaase, Kaneki-kun~~~"

His act failed to extract sympathy from dark-haired boy, rather it seemed to have disgusted him, as the boy shrunk further away, his glass of ice cream taken along with him. Grimacing, he spoke. "That's disturbing, Hide."

With a smack of the table, the blonde sat up and folded his arms in front of his chest, as if indignant, deviating from the pleading desperation that he had just before. "Hmph. And I thought that you would learn something from that author of yours. What was her name? Tatsumaki Sen?"

"Takatsuki Sen." He corrected.

It didn't matter to Hide though as the boy carried on, his head shaking in feigned disappointment as he did so. "One would think that talking to her would have planted some kindness within you. But here you are, refusing to share a measly ice cream parfait with your best friend. I'm sure even the great saint Tatsumaki Sen will be disappointed by your actions. Kaneki, I think—"

Then, the boy stopped, his eyes widened and his mouth suspended in a parted position, agape, a finger pointed towards something behind Kaneki. "Wow. I can't believe it…"

Kaneki looked at his best friend puzzlingly. "Hm?"

"Tatsumaki Sen! She's actually here."

Perhaps he was a fool, but Kaneki turned to look, and was naturally confused when the green-haired author was nowhere to be found. When he turned back around, he saw Hide helping himself to his ice cream, the metallic spoon tainted by the other man's saliva buried deep into his parfait.

"Hey!" He cried out, a hand reaching for the glass cup, but missed as Hide snatched it to his side of the table. Triumphant, Hide inserted the spoon in his mouth, savoring the taste of the creamy sweetness as it melted against his tongue.

"Ahh. I guess I will just keep this ice cream parfait to myself." The blonde man teased, helping himself to yet another scoop of the dessert. "I mean, wouldn't it be an indirect kiss if you eat it right now? I'm pretty sure you would rather do an intimate thing like that with Tatsumaki."

Kaneki wished that Hide would have at least been courteous enough to keep his mouth shut when eating.

"Do what with me?"

He whipped his head around at the familiar silvery sound; his mind wandering the possibilities that the thing his friend did earlier was not just a stunt to steal his ice cream.

"T-Takatsuki-sensei" He stammered.

It was right beside his table where the short-statured author stood, still dressed with the same tacky sense of fashion that he had seen her in before.

The petite woman smiled prettily in response and repeated her question. "Do what with me?"

"N-nothing r-really." He didn't even sound convincing to himself.

Hide smirked at the transpiring events and moved to get out of his seat, the sound of his scooting chair being enough to remind his bookish friend of his presence. "Well then, Kaneki, I believe it is time for me to take my leave. I forgot that I have a study group that I need to attend. I'm sure you know how competitive the students at Kamii can be, being that we go to the same school."

A smile was exchanged between the petite author and the boisterous blonde as they made eye contact, with Hide excusing himself quietly soon after. Before he headed out the doorway of the ice cream parlor, Hide called out for his best friend's name once again, shooting the boy a wink and a thumbs up when he turned around. An eye roll was all that he received for his efforts, and a light chuckle was all that he gave in return.

"May I sit?"

Kaneki's eyes flitted back to the woman standing by his side and quickly realized his bad manners. "Oh yes, of course." He replied, his hands moving to clear out the clutters on the table. Both cups of the parfaits, half-eaten and completely empty, were swept against the red-bricked wall in the corner. The girl soon helped herself to a seat as she took the spot where Hide once sat.

"So, I heard you go to Kamii?"

"Ah, yes." The boy rubbed his neck abashedly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"I heard that's a pretty good university. What are you majoring in."

"J-Japanese literature."

He gulped nervously. To sit face to face with another woman and be able to converse with her like this. It almost felt like it was a real date.

"Japanese literature? Well, I guess that's to be expected considering how much you seem to like books."

He could feel Takatsuki's gaze resting upon the book that he had subconsciously swept against his chest earlier. It was a book about ghouls that he had picked up out of curiosity just a few days ago.

"Eh? Kaneki-kun, you're interested in ghouls?" She asked. There was a strange glint shining within the depths of in the author's eyes that he couldn't quite place.

"A-ah, yes." He affirmed. "I just stumbled across it, and I picked it up because I thought it would be interesting. I mean, there were reports on the news about humans being attacked by ghouls, so I thought it would be best if I start learning about what I will be dealing with. You should give this book a read too. I think it is really informative."

Takatsuki expression remained constant throughout Kaneki's long-winded explanation. Only when the boy was finished did the tender smile fade from her lips. "So, what do you think about ghouls personally?"

Kaneki blinked, unsure if his ear had deceived him. "Excuse me?"

Calmly, the woman restated her question. "I asked you for your opinion on ghouls."

It was a question that he was uncomfortable with answering. Desperate, he searched the older woman's eyes for signs of mercy, hoping that she would just let the question face into the realm of the forgotten. However, mercy was not to be found, rather there was a level of firmness that told the boy that his answer was important.

"I think it would be wrong to label them as "evil".

"Eh? How so?" She leaned forward, a hand propping her chin up, her eyes fixed intently on the boy in front of her. Subconsciously, Kaneki scooted backward.

"I mean they really can't help themselves can they? Since they need the meat to survive. Labeling them as evil will be like labeling a wolf evil for killing rabbits to feed themselves." His eyes darted about wildly as he spoke, landing on anything but the woman sitting in front of him. When he was finished, he finally found himself daring to looked at the petite woman, hoping that what he had just said hadn't caused the author to view him negatively.

To his relief, the woman smiled. "You're a kind one aren't you, Kaneki-kun? I really like that, your kindness, I mean."

"T-thanks." He muttered, shrinking slightly in his seat while he tried to control the redness of his cheeks.

Suddenly, the woman stood up. The chair that she was sitting on now moved back in place.

"Where are you going?" He called out.

"Sorry, I have to be leaving soon." The girl said apologetically. "It was great meeting you here and I hope to to see you again."

So, the woman left, leaving Kaneki to stare at her departing figure. The boy was now alone inside the ice cream parlor, sitting in the solid wooden seat with a ruined ice cream parfait and a book that he probably shouldn't have bought. Solemnly, he wondered if he had offended the girl.


	4. Rabbit Hole

Everyone else was going home, yet there he was, tucked in the corner of a putrid alley. Kaneki Ken remained crouched in the corner, his eyes downcast and bloodshot, while his hands cupped the both side of his head as he waited for the passing of the headache that plagued him. When his horrid desires struck again, a glob of saliva dripped down from his lips and hung in the air like spider silk.

He needed a moment to gather his thoughts. To draw his mind away from the horrific desires brimming inside of him. Every once and then, a set of legs would come and pass, only to followed by another set. Every once and again, a couple of drunkards would drunkenly lean on him for support as they slur nonsense in their fetid breath.

He kept his bloodshot eyes fixed on the floor through it all, all the while forcing himself to ignore the judging glance of every seldom passerby and keeping his cravings of human flesh under control. This two front war proved to be just enough to overwhelm.

In a crazed inner mantra, he reminded himself of who he was. He reminded himself repeatedly of his life as Kaneki Ken, the hopeful student at Kamii University. With fervor, he scratched and clawed in the landscape of his mind, digging deep into the soils of his conscious in search of anything he could use to cling onto whatever vestige of humanity that still remained within him.

He wished he hadn't wandered out of his home in the first place. Now he couldn't even trust himself to get home. At least not when there were still that many people around.

When the time seemed right, he pulled himself up to wobbly footing. His legs seemed to have fallen asleep from the long periods of inactivity. The amount of time he spent crying had also taken a notable toll on his stamina.

It must have been at least 2 A.M. in the morning. It wouldn't be long before the sun comes out again.

With a hand placed on his empty abdomen and his back hopelessly hunched over, Ken forged forward one painstakingly disoriented step at a time.

There was no time to waste. Soon, the streets would be populated with people again. The difference was, this time he wasn't sure if he could control himself.

He needed to get back to his apartment first. There would be plenty of time to figure everything out afterwards. He might even get in contact with the strange doctor again, and then he would ask him what he should do with his strange new predicament.

"Huh? Isn't this Kaneki-kun?"

He paused, unable to believe his ears. He certainly didn't expect to see her around in this juncture of the day.

The boy turned around to face the source of the voice. Sure enough, the green-haired author was standing there, just a few feet behind him, dressed in the same obscure fashion from the last time that he saw her. Her face was a look of welcomed confusion while her innocent prying smile remained curious for an explanation.

He really wished that she wasn't here at the moment.

"Just going for a quick morning walk that's all. Hehe." He laughed with strain. "I have an exam coming up and I was just studying for it."

That was what his excuse would be. He would maintain the charade of an ambitious, happy-go-lucky college student who was simply hoping to get in a good night of study before an important exam. This was all he was going to do. He was going to pretend that everything was fine until Takatsuki-sensei leaves.

His plans shattered at the same time that a blinding pain shattered his brain. The residuals of his unquenched headache.

Ken doubled over, hands clutching his head. He bit hard onto his lips to stop himself from screaming, drawing blood in the process.

The girl was on top of him the next second, asking him what was wrong as she reached to help him up. Almost instinctively, he shoved her away, albeit too roughly, as the girl stumbled backwards and flopped onto her buttocks.

When he regained composure over himself, there was a confused author sitting on the floor, eyeing with so much bewilderment that it made him think he had just killed someone.

"S-sorry." He stuttered out an apology, but didn't trust himself to go any closer.

He had never been more tormented by her presence. An irony that wasn't lost on him as he still remembered the nights that he spent praying about meeting her at a book signing.

Even as the girl sat on the floor, he couldn't help but foster a desire to rush her and pin her down. To control her, to dominate. The primitive desire to defeat and survive beckoned him, ordering him to bite anywhere that would make her squirm. He wanted to hear her voice scream. To watch her fight. Then, finally watch her resign over to him as he mark every last inch of her tender skin with his teeth.

It was like there was a devil in his head. One that constantly whispered in his ears and disciplined him with thrusts of its pitchfork. His brain must resemble crushed cherry by now.

Before he was aware of it, he walked forward. One step. Two steps.

"Kaneki-kun?" She called out for his name.

He ignored her.

Three steps.

"Are you alright?"

Four steps.

The growling of the stomach filled the air. Whatever tenseness the moment possessed was now destroyed. Ken stopped in his tracks, once again back in contact with reality. He quickly surveyed the surrounding, from the spilled content of a woman's purse, to the frightened author seated just a few inches away from him.

He realized what he just tried to do.

"Takatsuki-sensei, I-I…"

"No need to say anymore, young man." The green-eyed woman laughed as she helped herself up. "You must be hungry. I know some good restaurants that we can go to..."

She trailed off as she took a peek at her watch and frowned. "I don't think they are open at this time though."

"I do have some food leftover…"

Ken suddenly became very aware of the plastic container spilled on the floor. It was a fragrance that reminded him of his past. Something that reminded him of his mother and her magic factory of ovens and frying pans.

 _A_ _pâté_ , The boy noted as he stared past the container's translucent surface. By all accounts, it looked like a regular pâté. Yet, it promised none of the usual nausea he had suffered.

In the background, Takatsuki's voice carried on. "...But I think they have rotten away by now."

"No. It's okay." He said suddenly.

"Really?" The author asked, surprised. "If you say so…"

With reluctance, she rummaged through the contents of her spilled bag until she came upon a pair of plastic wrapped dumplings. "Well, I bought these awhile ago. Not sure if they are still good."

But by the time she had held her dumplings up as an offering, she was already too late. The boy had already helped himself to her pâté.

"But that is..." The woman started to object, but stopped herself when it seemed like her concerns would fall on deaf ears.

Having wolved down the last slice of the pâté., Ken gave the plastic container a thorough lick before he set it down. When Ken was finished, his headache and hunger had diminished, but in their place came embarrassment and confusion.

"Haha. You were like a dog." Takatsuki teased as she bent over to pick up her now-emptied container. "Didn't expect someone like you to act like that. I have to say I expected you to be more prim and proper."

"S-s-sorry." Ken stammered with a blushing face.

"No. It's all good." Takatsuki responded with a dismissive wave. She then shut the cap over the container, producing an audible click. "You must have been real hungry."

"Yeah. Sorry." Ken apologized again.

"Like I said before, you don't have to worry about it. I understand that college kids run on tight budgets."

"I see…" Ken smiled, then as if not knowing how to end his sentence, he added a quick "Thank you" to express his gratitude.

Takatsuki grinned from ear to ear, seemingly relieved that they were finally out of the cycle of apologies and dismissal. She patted the boy on the back, whacking him hard enough to leave the child breathless for a brief moment. "See? That sounds a lot better than "sorry". We're making progress, young boy! Hohoho!"

He chose to not comment on her weird laugh for the moment. Takatsuki's words did make him feel a lot better about himself. However, there was still one thing that bothered him.

"Regarding the pâté?" The boy took a cautionary step backwards. "D-Did you make that?"

"Uh-huh." Takatsuki's smile remained unfaltering. "Why are you asking? Did it not taste good?"

"No. No. Not at all." Ken denied. "It did taste good."

Almost too good, even. Unlike the burger that he made earlier, her food did not make him want to vomit.

"Why are you eyeing me like that?" Takatsuki asked, shuffling a bit nervously under his gaze. " I'm not going to give you my secret recipe. We have only met thrice, after all."

"Y-yeah. I guess it was rather foolish of me to even hope."

When Kaneki Ken made it back to his apartment an hour later, he immediately hopped onto his laptop. He researched information about ghouls until he passed out.

* * *

She didn't expect to see him this soon. The last time they met was a couple of weeks ago...

Or was it a couple of months?

Honestly, she had forgotten.

But yet there he was, wrapped up in the dark roots of her tree.

He was brought here by the Black Rabbit. In a way, he reminded her of the main character of "Alice in Wonderland." Both of them had followed a rabbit down a rabbit hole, or in this case, the rabbit hole of a ghoul's world—a world of rapidly degenerating peace and sanity.

Still, even as the boy was shoved in front of them, she still couldn't help liken him to a flower that bloomed in a battlefield. In a world of cynics and charlatan, of sullied minds and bloodied hands, the boy was almost beautiful in his bizarre optimism.

In an instant, Tatara skewered the boy with his hand and in the next he discarded the boy like garbage. As Ken writhed in pain at the wound in his abdomen, Eto couldn't help but chuckle lightly.

She had no idea when she started to find other people's suffering amusing. But when she did, she couldn't stop.

When the boy's met her own, she averted her gaze a bit to the side. Perhaps, she did feel a little bit of guilt for not helping him.

* * *

She surveyed the quarters of the refugee from her position by the door. The place was rather cramped and rundown and reeked of ghouls that couldn't be bothered to take care of their personal hygiene. The floorboards were creaky and looked as if they had the integrity of a floor of straw while the cracked and discolored walls appeared to be as flimsy as a block of chalk. She was almost afraid to take a step inside out of fear that the ground would give in at her weight.

A frightened audience had been watching her ever since she pushed open the doors of this dingy room. Which was fine, she liked being feared. After spending a portion of her life hunted by everyone else, this role reversal felt good.

 _As the saying goes, those who fight monsters…_

She cut off her train of thoughts once she realized she was being too soapy. She thought she had already abandoned such victim complex a long time ago, alongside other things.

Indeed, she wasn't a tragic heroine of a novel. At best, she was a supporting character. A mere stepping stone in the protagonist's growth. Someone waiting to be forgotten.

When she finds her king, she was planning on stepping down. Her age was catching up on her after all.

"Ken-san~~~~~~" She sang, poking her head inside the room, her mummified head bobbing over to one side. "May I speak with you?"

* * *

A/N: Time sure flies, doesn't it. I can't believe that it has already been a year since I last posted. Anyways, I made some edits to the second chapter to make things flow smoother. Have a good day.

Btw, no idea why this is showing in the top of the list when I actually deleted a chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

It was strange how something that looked so bizzare could sound so humane, so mundane. Like a typical human girl. Her tone was characterized by an intentional high-pitched inflection, like a schoolgirl trying to sound cute to charm her seniors. Nonetheless, Ken felt a ghost of a shiver traveling up his spine. He was no more less confused of what to make of the bandaged midget in front of him than a few second ago.

When a few seconds passed and the mummy was still looking at him, he pointed a trembly finger to himself and checked to see if he heard her right.

"W-who me?" He asked with shaky breath.

The mummy nodded. "Yes. Who else?" She walked away and beckoned him to follow. "Follow me outside, won't you?"

He got up onto his wobbly legs, afraid of what the mummy wanted. As he left the room, his eyes crossed with Banjou's and they communicated their unspoken promise of secrecy. In a few days, they were going to get out of this dump together.

* * *

Ken followed her outside and turned corners after corners until they finally stopped in a dingy room.

She closed the door after them before turning to face him, her hands stripping down her hoodie then the bandages that concealed her. Coil by coil and strip by strip the bandages unraveled and dropped on the floor, all the while Ken kept his eyes fixed on the walls, too embarrassed to look.

"There's nothing to see over here. It is all covered up nicely." She called out. Her voice had lost its previous child-like zeal and transformed into one that sounded more familiar. One that reminded him of the voice of a certain author.

He turned his body slightly, a bit closer to facing her, but still largely looking at the walls. He wasn't sure if he should continue, out of fear of what or who he would see waiting for him by the door.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Ken. This is only the fourth time that we have met after all. I'm not giving up my chastity that easily."

Ken turned around, his lips slimmed into a thin unreadable line at who he saw.

"Hello Kaneki-kun." Eto greeted, a hand brushing away her liberated locks. "You ate my Pâté remember?"

"...T-Takatsuki-sensei?" He began, head shaking in perplexity. "Why?"

"Why does anyone do anything?" She laughed and quickly found herself a pair of seats by the corner. With a gesture towards the unoccupied chair across from her, she requested Ken to join her. "Here, have a seat. The higher-ups have sent me to give you the spiel"

 _Higher-ups_. He noted. The hierarchy of the organization had become just a tad bit clearer to him. Takatsuki, the mummy, wasn't the one in charge. Not that he ever thought she was. The man with the red mask seemed more of the leader type.

Ken obeyed her and took a seat across from her.

"I really wished that you weren't a ghoul." Ken spoke suddenly.

She stared at him, dumbfounded to why he was telling her this.

Finally, she leaned back and heaved a sigh, her hands massaging her neck as if tormented by soreness. "Well, life isn't so great is it? This is something you will learn as you grow up, young man."

Something felt different — that much he could tell the longer he spent with her. The Takatsuki-sensei that he admired was not the one sitting across from him.

He wanted her to smile again, to joke with him, to not look at him with such a dismissive coldness. It was as if he was disposable to her, as if he was just another individual for her to go through the motions with until her next ultimatum.

The person in the room was not the ditz who appeared at the book signings. She was no longer the flippant author who would violate her editors requests, but a woman who had her eyes set on violating something far more grandiose. It was a duality akin to day and night, fire and ice, and sugar and vinegar.

Under the ominous atmosphere of the room that seemed to have little space for joviality, Ken found himself unable to breathe.

"I believe right about now, you're wondering what reason I have for calling you over."

"Yes...it has crossed my mind."

"Well, it is not anything too far-fetched or unreasonable. At least not anything you can't help with with the stuff you already have."

"What is it then?"

"I want you to join us."

"Join you?"

"Yup." Takatsuki nodded. "Join us, the Aogiri Tree."

"What reason do I have to do that?"

"You yourself have become a ghoul right?" She pointed to her left eye. "Just one, from what I have seen."

Ken's silence was all the answer she needed.

"In the steel-girder incident where two Japanese citizens suffered a construction site accident, there were two casualties. One of them was reported dead, and the other one was you."

"Yes. Your point is?"

"Let's just say things are not exactly what the doctor have told you."

Ken recalled the ghoul with the red mask saying something similar. "What do you mean?" He pressed.

"Oh? Are you interested?" Takatsuki raised a curious eyebrow. What quickly followed was a teasing grin. "It's a secret. Maybe I will tell you some other time."

Though the familiar flippancy returned, it felt different. Like a magic trick spoiled by the truth. Deep down, he knew it was just a superficial display.

He still couldn't believe that Takatsuki-sensei, the frequent subject of his dreams, his designated paragon of innocence and virtue, had been mingling with such barbaric ghouls the whole time. The ones that had brutally snatched him away from Anteiku, his sanctuary of peace and comfort. The lot that felt no remorse disrupting the lives of innocent civilians.

A part of him wished for Takatsuki to break down, to cry and confess that she had somehow been forced into this as well. But the vulnerability never came, not one crack could be spotted in Takatsuki's act. It was almost like she wanted this as well.

"Anyways," Takatsuki said, changing the subject. "We the Aogiri Tree wishes to create a world where ghouls can live openly and freely. A world where we no longer have to endure the prejudice of the public, a world where we no longer have to lurk in the lightless darkness. To this end, a revolution is necessary."

"A revolution?" He repeated.

"Yes. A revolution." She reaffirmed.

"In order for that to happen, we'll need to get rid of the primary enemy of us ghouls. I'm pretty sure you have heard of them as well."

"You mean the ghoul investigators?"

"Yup. The hooligans in the ugly coats with their ugly briefcases."

"And only by slaughtering all those who oppressed us, can us ghouls take the first step towards our ideal world. I mean, how else are we ghouls supposed to survive in a world dominated by humans?" She gave him a challenging smirk and an equally provocative point of finger. "Unless you have something to add?"

Ken found himself faltering underneath Takatsuki's expectations, his eyes quickly becoming downcast as he lowered his head to avoid meeting the author's gaze. Out of his newfound nervousness, he started to wring the fabrics of his pants.

Then suddenly, his grip loosened and he looked up, his eyes sporting a rare spectacle of steeled resolve. "No. There's another way." He stated as if his words were the absolute truth.

His audience, the green-maned author, leaned forward with a hand under her chin, curious to hear his reply. "Let's hear it then."

He pointed to his eye, the one often frequented by the colors of darkness and anger. "I was once conflicted about who I am, being a stranger of both worlds. But when I was at my weakest moment, I was taken in by a ghoul. Under his care, I learned to live as a ghoul and interact as a ghoul." He paused to check to see if the author was still listening, when he saw that she was, he moved to finish his speech. "There are ways for ghouls to coexist with humans peacefully, such as eating the bodies of the deceased…"

An incredulous scoff conveyed the author's disagreement. "Peaceful coexistence? The old man from the coffee shop sure did a number on you."

Surprise followed by annoyance were the expressions on Ken's face. "You mean the manager?" He scooted back, slightly defensive after his proposition was ridiculed. "He was the one who took me in. Why?"

The woman broke into a resetting cough, signifying the return of a more serious demeanor. "I would disregard the things he said. The ramblings of a senile man can be quite dangerous...especially to those who listen."

She leaned back on her chair and stretched, making herself comfortable before she elaborated on her assertion. "What he's doing is similar to ordering people to take painkillers. It dampens the problem but does nothing to solve the underlying issues. What he advocates is avoidance. It's a workaround born out of the fear of tackling the issue head on."

"Takatsuki-sensei…" When Ken spoke again, his voice was soft and dejected, no longer possessing the steeled resolve that it once had. Still, out of this whirlpool of confusion, disappointment and sadness, he managed to birth a new question. "Are you familiar with the manager?"

"Well, let's just say he's an old acquaintance."

That seemed to be the end of that discussion, at least Takatsuki made sure it was as she transitioned into another attempt to sway him to her side.

"So?" The woman prompted. "What do you say? Won't you join us?

"Why me though?"

"Let's just say you got something that I wanted."

"Like what?"

"You wouldn't know even if I explain it to you. It is not that important."

It caught Ken's attention that Takatsuki's manner of speech was characterized by vagueness. She was always careful to never reveal too much information, just enough to catch his attention.

At the end of each of their dialogues, he still had all the questions, and her, all the answers.

"Ever since you became a ghoul, have you ever lost someone close to you, Kaneki-kun?"

His mind immediately flashed to Ryouko, Hinami's mother.

"By the look on your face, I assume you have." Takatsuki surmised.

He fed into her suspicions. "And what if I have?"

"Why do you think it happened? _"It's the fault of others"_ would be your first response, no? I, too, used to think like that, until I realized that it was an entirely selfish line of thinking." She paused and twirled her hair. "By thinking that, I have shed all of my responsibilities and instead projected them onto others. Sure, other people are at fault as well, but am I really as innocent as I liked to think?"

She was fast to answer her own question. "I believe the answer to that question is a "no". As I have sinned as well. I have commited the sin of "weakness". It was my fault that things that I held dear to me were taken away because I couldn't protect them."

"You see, Ken, I had an epiphany. Just like how you will many times in the futures. And through the many epiphanies that I have had in life, I have come to realize one thing. And that is, things aren't meant to be left alone."

As her monologue came to a stop, she stopped twirling her hair as well. She stood up, smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles of her red dress before heading to the door and pulling it open.

"Anyways, now that I have showed you my face, my fate is at your mercy. You can walk out of here and go alert the proper authorities if you want. I won't stop you."

Ken sat still, unsure of how to respond.

She took a step out the door, then another, then she stopped and twirled around to face him. "Say, you are friends with Banjou right?"

Ken blinked dumbly, surprised to why Takatsuki would decide to bring that man up suddenly. When he caught up to the woman's line of thinking, he sat there frozen with a churning stomach.

"Your conversation...I overheard it." She revealed. "Normally, we wouldn't mind letting them leave if they asked nicely. But their attempt to conspire against us did leave a rather sour taste in my mouth. I'm sure Tatara-san won't be happy to hear that the people that we took in out of the goodness of our hearts will in turn bite our altruistic hands."

Ken could feel where the conversation was going. There was no need for the woman to continue spelling things out for him. The writing on the wall detailed an unspoken ultimatum, just like the ones that he had feared. If he refused their invitation to join them, Banjou's group would be killed.

"But…I suppose I can help you."

Ken blinked again, surprised by this development.

"Excuse me?"

He could sense the woman resisting an eyeroll. "I said I will help you."

"Why?"

The author's smile was unreadable. "Because I like you, Kaneki-kun."

* * *

A/N: Posted this a while ago. Figured that it sucked so I took it off. In my defense, I left it up for like three days. I considered rewriting it but once I re-read it, I thought it was pretty decent for the most part. Anyways, I decided to alter the ending a tad for reason. Let's keep things amiable for a while.


	6. Chapter 6

Kazuichi Banjou fancied himself as a man of sound mind and logic. At times, he even prided himself to be a fair planner. Just simple stuff mostly. Like when to eat, when to sleep, when to stand up for himself and when to fade away. Although he didn't expect to overthrow the reigning shogi champion anytime soon, he liked to believe that he had some strategic wisdom about him.

Even when orchestrating a prison break, he liked to keep a tight camp. Hence the reason why he was unhappy when Kaneki brought back something he should have left behind.

Banjou's eyes fell on the bandaged girl meaningfully, his mind contemplating her purpose in their meeting. When he continued to draw blanks, he caved and asked the question that he should have asked five minutes earlier.

"Remind me again why the mummy is here?"

Like the rest of them, Eto was sitting in the circle, listening attentively as they went over their escape plan one last time. He probably would have been less irritated had the girl not followed each and every single one of his plans with an approving chorus of "I see. I see."

But as if sensing his growing impatience, that was all the mummy had been doing for the past few minutes. He didn't need any validations. Least of all from an executive of Aogiri Tree.

Ken gave a nervous smile. "She said she will help us."

Banjou stared at him, his face a portrait of doubt, conveying his unspoken question of the younger boy's sanity and naivety. At last he sighed, willing to put away his discontent for the moment.

"You at least made sure no one followed her here, I hope."

"Of course I did."

"And you" Banjou said, addressing Eto. "You don't have any spies eavesdropping on the conversation do you?"

"Of course I don't."

Banjou knew better to take the mummy's answer at face value, but nodded anyway.

Nonetheless, he continued going over his plan, his voice kept at a minimalist volume to prevent eavesdroppers.

"As I was saying, the executives of the 11th Ward seem to rotate in and out of the hideout to a pattern. Noro and Ayato leaves once every five days, Yamori leaves once every three days, and the Bin Brothers never leave."

"I see. I see."

There it was again, the shrill sounds of approval. It felt like she was mocking him.

"I have to say you have a penchant for observation. To think that you are able to figure out my group's schedule so quickly and so thoroughly." She paused and smiled through her bandaged face. "I'm impressed."

Smiles were supposed to be signs of reassurance—something to bring warmth and comfort. Yet, all Banzou received was chilly emptiness. The alarms in his head went off immediately, sounding even louder than before as they warned him of the dangers of the woman in front of him. He forced them to stay quiet and chalked them off as mere apprehension of the unfamiliar.

Throughout the entirety of his forced servitude for Aogiri, he had never exchanged two words with the girl. The most he had seen of her was when she hung around Tatara.

Soon he started to think of her as Tatara's woman. Someone who only rose in ranks due to sexual favoritism.

That was all the significance he assigned to her. Just a mere gold-digger attached to people with power, only to ditch and abandon them once they fall from grace.

Never once did he think he would be sitting in the same room as her, entrusting her with top-secret information out of his trust for a stranger that he met less than a day ago.

Perhaps others were right when they said he was too soft.

"Ha." He chuckled with all the eloquence of a man staring down a gunbarrel and scratched the back of his head nervously. "Thanks for your kind words."

The girl nodded before turning her attention to Kaneki. "I assume you lot are still going to seek shelter in the 20th ward?"

"Yup." Kaneki chimed in, his eyes placed on Eto carefully. "You have any other suggestions?"

Eto shrugged to signify her indifference. "Either way is fine with me. Just make sure you get there safely."

Banjou blinked dumbly at the exchange. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a slight flicker of tension between the duo. Were they not as friendly and affable as he expected? Either way, he was eager to get her out of the equation, even if he had to use Kaneki as an excuse to support his own skepticism and cynicism.

"I say we just bound and gag her and keep her here. I'm not comfortable letting her run around freely."

The change in the girl's disposition was instant and abrupt as she let out a shrill and prolonged "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh?" in protest. She quickly scrabbled behind Kaneki, her hands gripping his shoulders as she held him in front of her, a head poking out timidly from behind her meat shield.

"Ken-kun~" She whimpered pathetically. "I'm scared~~"

Kaneki held a set of appeasing hands forward, sweats forming at his hairline. "Now now. I'm sure she can be helpful. Taka-" The boy froze and corrected himself. The girl had sworn him into secrecy regarding her other identity just moments ago. "Eto-chan knows more about Aogiri than anyone of us."

"Yup! Yup! Yup! What he said." Eto was quick to piggy-back on Kaneki's words, her words spoken with the eagerness of a scolded child, desperate to side with the first person to jump to her defense. Kaneki had become the tree branch she holds onto in the midst of an avalanche. The rock that she hides behind in the face of roaring winds. The low-lying ditch during a lightning storm.

When she saw that Banzou needed a little more convincing, she moved herself out of her Kaneki-Shelter ever so slightly, but made it clear that she would dive right back in at the first sign of a threat. "I can make sure that security will be extra lax during the day of your escape." She swallowed nervously before elaborating. "The Aogiri hideout is always surrounded with scouts regardless of which executive is on site. If you promise not to hurt me, I can go and distract everyone. That way you guys can leave safely and without a hitch."

Banjou frowned and rubbed his goatee thoughtfully. "If you are so willing to help, can't you just arrange for us to be let go?"

At this, Eto lowered her head, as if in shame. "Unfortunately, I don't have the pull to do that. Tatara-san said that even the most useless of ghouls can be good decoys."

Banjou took a moment to look around the room, searching for opinions on the faces of his followers. Throughout the entire meeting, almost no one else had said a word, save for Kaneki, who was prompted by the mummy to talk. Even now, everyone's faces only supported the looks of growing curiosity. There was no judgment, no concern, just people waiting to follow his decision.

His decision was the one that mattered. His decision was the only one that mattered.

Looking back, he supposed it was only natural that a doormat like him would attract other doormats.

"I suppose that's fine." He said finally. When he did, the whole room seemed to have let out a breath that none of them knew they were holding.

Whatever goodwill he had built up for the mummy was quickly wasted however when the ghoul pulled down the eyelid of her left eye and stuck her tongue out mockingly. "It's too bad you can't enact your lewd fantasies anymore."

She wrapped a set of protective arms around herself as she wriggled away, her eyes shut melodramatically, her head shook slowly and disapprovingly, all the while her taunting lips flapped continuously. "Shame on you for preying on the body of a young maiden!"

Violence wasn't in Banjou's nature. But at that moment, all he wanted was to dare the mummy to sit next to him and say those words to his face. Then, he would take her head into a headlock and wring the hell out of her until he wrings out an apology.

But when the room bursted in laughter, he had no choice but to let the comment slide.

As the laughters died down, Eto stood up and headed towards the door, taking with her the attention of all present in the room. "Anyways. I have to be going now. It's nice meeting you all." She waved goodbye to everyone and they all waved back with the exception of one.

No harm no foul. She got what she wanted anyway. Eto took a step forward, outside the room and towards the dilapidated hallways of the dying building.

"Wait."

She stopped and turned to the sight of Banjou, the idiot who didn't wave back at her, staring at her intently.

"Just because I agreed to let you in to our operation, doesn't mean I trust you completely." He added. "For the last time and for my own peace of mind, tell me which side are you on? The good or the bad?"

Eto smiled innocently in response. "If you word it like that you will confuse me, Banjou-san. But rest assured, I'm on Kaneki-kun's side." She winked at Kaneki, causing the boy to flush slightly.

She danced away shortly after, leaving a flabbergasted Kaneki and a puzzled Banjou in her wake.

* * *

When night came, Kaneki joined the rest of his fellow captives on the floor, their dirtied Aogiri cloaks serving as their primary source of warmth. As the members of his group drifted away to the realms of sleep one after another, Ken found himself left behind.

He stared up at the ceiling and studied the dangling spiders and the broken-blade ceiling fan, his mind dulled by the miasma of boredom. Kaneki turned his head to the room's only window and caught sight of the crescent moon amidst the wispy patches of darkened clouds. It amazed him how something so reliant on others could be so beautiful.

His idle mind wandered to the cafe next. He hoped that everyone managed to keep themselves safe after he was taken away. He wanted to see all of them again. The manager, Koma, Irimi, Nishio, Hinami and... lastly, Touka.

He couldn't help but wonder how she reacted when she woke up in the vandalized cafe and realized that he was gone. A part of him, the selfish part of him, liked to think that she was worried. But the more realistic side of him knew that she was probably relieved to be rid of a wimp like him.

Would anyone in the coffee shop even care if he just went and died?

Probably not.

He hadn't done enough to earn a place in their hearts.

He needed to do more. He should have done more.

Kaneki flipped uncomfortably against the floor once again and berated himself for having such depressing thoughts just a few days before he would make his escape. The night always gave him time to reflect. It was simply quieter.

"I wonder if she's pretty..."

Ken stared into the darkness dumbly, unaware that someone else was awake at this hour.

"Kouto?" He called out.

"Yeah." The child answered, his chubby face poking out of his blanket of red cloak. His short brown hair hardly distinguishable in the darkness. He was the son of Kei— a hapless mother forced into a hopeless situation.

"Did I wake you?"

"No. Just wondering if the little lady from earlier is pretty. You and her seem pretty close."

"Yes." Ken smiled. "She's incredibly kind and caring as well."

"Really?"

Ken was surprised that Banjou was still awake as well.

"Did I wake you?"

Banjou sighed and propped himself up against the wall, his hands massaging the bridge of his nose. "No. It is just that with everything that happened today, I'm having a bit of trouble sleeping. I'm still not sure that I made the right choice."

Ken sat up as well, his eyes staring straight into Banjou's as he reaffirmed his faith. "I believe in Eto-chan."

The man laughed weakly. "It is great that you do. Just don't get overly-attached. I have seen her act a lot more intimate with Tatara than with you."

Unsure of how to respond, Ken only mumbled out a response. "I see."

Tatara. The thought of the mask wearing man caused Ken to place a hand over his stomach — the area that the ghoul pierced through earlier. There were still a lot of things that Tatara said to him in the meeting hall that he didn't quite understand.

No matter how much he learned, the ghoul world still remained a mystery to him. Trying to figure it out right now would be like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.

"Will that little lady do something bad to hurt us?"

Kouto's curious question snapped Ken out of his reverie. He was about to offer some words of reassurance when Banjou beat him to the punch.

"Haha. Don't mind what I said, that was just my silly paranoia talking!" Banjou laughed in the darkness. "I'm going get all of us out of here in one piece!"

The young boy went back to sleep with a relaxed smile on his face and Banjou followed shortly after. With one last look at the darkness in front of him, Kaneki shut his eyes and forced himself to sleep as well.

* * *

When Eto spotted Tatara again, he was standing on the edge of a building, overlooking the Ota ward skylines. The evening breeze ruffled gently against the man's white hair and danced it playfully against the silver moonlight. Having noticed her presence, the towering man turned, the forlorn melancholy of his moon-lit eye shining even brighter in the night.

"You seem to like high places," She called out from underneath. The girl was next to him in the next instant, the light whisperings of wind being the only signs that she had moved at all. "Just like Ayato-kun."

When Tatara did not respond, Eto helped herself to a seat on the edge of the rooftop. She reared back her head and breathed in the evening air, sighing contently at its pleasantry.

"You enjoy the night scenery?"

"Not particularly."

Eto grinned knowingly.

"Were the stars bright in China?"

"..." There was silence before Tatara finally responded. "I don't remember."

"What made you so late?" This time it was the foreign ghoul's turn to ask questions.

Eto shrugged. "Nothing. Got a bit sidetracked is all."

"I can smell the scent of that brat from you."

"Oh?" Eto smirked, facing the foreign ghoul slightly just to flaunt her smugness. "Jealous?"

Much to Eto's disappointment, Tatara didn't take that bait, his eyes instead fixed firmly on the equatorial sky. "How long do you plan on dabbling in that nonsense"

Things were quiet between them again as Eto flippantly dangled her feet. Then almost as if paying him back for ignoring her question earlier, Eto did the same.

"Say, Tatara."

"Yes?"

"Do you remember how it feels like to have someone think you're a good person?"

"..."

"I thought not. It feels pretty good." She took in another relaxing breath. "Having others hold such a trust in you."

Crimson eyes slid over to her curiously. "Are you having regrets?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Nope. Not at all. I just think it won't hurt to drop some extra baggage every once and then."

"Suit yourself." He huffed and began to walk away.

Eto puffed her cheeks in annoyance and stood up. "Tch. So cool as always."

She walked across the edge of the rooftop, her arms spread out to her side as she teetered alongside the edge. Once she reached the end, she hopped off and caught up with Tatara in a mild sprint. She cut in front of him with a playful pirouette before straightening herself, her arms linked behind her. Eto tilted her head to look at the much taller man, green eyes flashing with an expectant hue. "Anyways, you wanna help?"

"Not this time." Came the man's aloof answer. He walked around her and dropped off the building, out of her view.

"Hmph. Meanie!" She shouted after him, but he did not respond.

* * *

On the evening of the operation, Kaneki Ken hid in the bushes like everyone else.

He watched from a distance as the Eto approached the duo of masked ghouls on the rooftop. The Bin Brothers, as others had referred to them.

After a brief conversation, the trio departed, leaping across rooftops as they raced away to where ever the bandaged ghoul directed them to.

When the Aogiri ghouls were no longer in sight, his group dashed out of the bushes in a mad sprint. They could practically taste the freedom that awaited them under freer skies.

Their shadows flitted through the forest detritus in a rough semi-circle, a symphony of cracking branches accompanied them as the group stepped and trampled their way to freedom. Their sweats poured and their bodies burned at their exertion.

"There really are no guards, it seems like." Banjou noted in amazement as he took a look around him.

"Yup," Ken agreed, his grin wide and uncontrollable. "I knew Eto-chan would come through for us!" There was a certain boastful pride that he said those words with— a sense of personal accomplishment even. Even though he knew that the credit for the lack of security goes solely to Eto, he couldn't help but feel like he played a part as well.

The feeling he was having was a strange one. It felt like there was something warm and fuzzy ballooning up inside of him, and that if he didn't make a conscious effort to control himself, he would burst and die.

"You know…"

Kaneki turned to his left to catch the smiling face of one of Banjou's followers. "From the moment that I saw you, I had the feeling that 'something will happen.'"

"When we get to the 20th…" Kouto called out from the front, pausing in his sentence to allow his tiny body to catch his breath. "I want to meet all of your friends! I wonder if they will like me?"

Kaneki grinned wider. Everyone was looking to talk to him. _This is good_ , he told himself. _I did something good._

"I'm sure they will." He beamed. "Hinami-chan is around your age. I'm sure you two will have lots to talk about."

He glanced around excitedly, his happiness only amplified when he saw that everyone was smiling at him. "The manager makes great coffee as we—"

His words stopped along with his feet. There was something wet on his face.

He recognized the smell.

It was the smell of blood.

His head snapped to the front in search for answers, and his eyes widened in horror at what he saw.

Time stood still as he watched his comrades' headless bodies dropped to the floor.

What came next was Banjou's scream. "Tetsu! Moku!"

The heads of the dead stared emptily at the living. Unblinking, unfaltering.

Ken could feel himself deflate. Whatever happiness, hope and dreams that he had been feeling the past few minutes had vanished. What replaced it was gut-wrenching despair.

The world around him seemed to spin and he felt himself get light-headed. The urge to throw up gnawed at him, strangling him.

He should have known that sooner or later, tragedy would rear its ugly head. He should have known better than to get carried away in the moment.

The world always seemed to be heading towards an equilibrium. Behind every happy moment is a tragedy waiting to happen. Anywhere light goes, shadow will await it. It was an unbreakable cycle.

But...even though he was aware of all these, he just wished that..

...he just wished that the happy moments would last a bit longer...

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here? Little rats trying to sneak out."

From the darkness of the forest, two figures walked out. One of them was a stocky blonde man dressed in a white business suit. The other was an effeminate man dressed in a simple flowery blouse. He met both men before in the coffee shop, on the day that he was abducted.

The speaker, the blonde man dressed in white, stood in front all of them, his gold-clad finger cracking under the pressure of his thumb. It was clear that they would not be allowed to pass.

Banjou was the first one to wake from the shattered dream of freedom, his confusion and sadness transformed into anger as he stomped towards Yamori, his fists clenched by his sides. He was restrained from walking to his death by one of his followers who quickly reminded him of the harsh reality of his weakness— that he would die as well if he picked a fight with 13th Ward's Jason.

As Kaneki watched everything unfold in front of him, he noted took note of how everything had changed. The charismatic and sensible leader that he had gotten to know during these past few days was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a broken man tormented by the loss of his friends and the faults of his weakness. A man with snots dripping out of his nose and tears welling up in his eyes.

No one was smiling anymore except Yamori — the man who had stolen everyone's smiles.

"Mommy? What's going on?" Kouto asked from behind the blindfolds of his mother's hands.

"Shhhh." The mother shushed. "Just keep quiet and everything will be alright."

"Why are you here?!"

Ken's eyes found his way back to Banjou again. Even while being restrained by his own men, Banjou was still bellowing out questions. He wished that he had strength like that.

Yamori grinned, his eyes turning into slits. "Nico overheard your conversation and told me you and your happy gang of friends are planning on rebelling against Aogiri Tree."

Nico smiled shyly in the background. "My ears are rather curious."

 _Overheard their conversation?_ He recalled Banjou asking him to make sure there were no eavesdroppers around their meeting room—a task that he swore he did thoroughly _._ Suddenly, Kaneki felt very vulnerable, very exposed. He backed away under the gaze of his teammates, nearly stumbling and falling over himself. "I didn't know. I swear, I looked around!" He sounded pathetic, but he didn't care. He needed to let others know that it wasn't his fault.

When everyone in his group maintained their expression of shock and horror, Ken hung his head down in shame.

It seemed that everything was his fault again…

...or was it?

Surely, he couldn't be faulted for things beyond his control? Surely, he couldn't be faulted for putting his trust onto others? Surely, he couldn't be faulted for believing in Takatsuki's words?

He just wanted to be liked.

Kaneki's mind wandered back to the subject of the author and pondered where she could be at this moment? Perhaps she saw how bad everything was and just went into hiding? Or perhaps this was all a ruse from the beginning and everything was just a demented play written to mess with him?

 _Oh well._ A bed of veins crept across the area beneath his left eye. _There is no point in thinking anymore...I feel like shit anyway..._

"Banjou-san...everyone...step aside…" He snarled animalistically as he bent forward, the familiar burning sensation of his back once again greeting him—it felt like someone was poking him from inside with a knife.

His friends were staring at him again, in the same shocked silence that they treated him with before.

"Kaneki...what are you…" Banjou started but the rest of his words were forgotten and leaked soundlessly from his agape mouth.

Yamori looked at him bemusingly and raised both of his arms in guard, his weight largely shifted to

back leg while he kept his front leg light. "Interesting. Entertain me." He demanded.

Then, having spotted something approach him from the corner of his eyes, Yamori shifted his body， crossed his hefty arms like a "X", and successfully intercepted the more immediate threat as his assailant smashed her knee against him. The bigger man staggered back, and when he regained his balance, he looked more annoyed than hurt.

"Seems like all the traitors are gathered." Yamori noted.

When the figure landed, Kaneki Ken found himself staring into the black phoenix emblem of the aogiri cloak.

"What are you moping around here for, Kaneki-kun? I thought you were going to make a run for the 20th ward? " He recognized the voice.

"Taka-" He corrected himself quickly. "Eto-chan!"

She didn't abandon him after all. A sense of relief washed over him.

The bandaged ghoul shifted her body slightly, just enough to peer at him with her reddened iris. "I will handle things from this point forward. Take your friends and leave." She looked away quickly to give Yamori her full attention.

"But—" He began to protest but she cut him off.

"Hurry!" She shouted. "I can handle Yamori by myself."

The corners of Yamori's lips quivered uncontrollably as he laughed. "I have no idea what is happening here, but _you_ of all people should know that the only consequence of betraying Aogiri is 'death'." Two voluminous tentacles exploded out of his back as he adopted a fighting pose once more. "I assure you that _this time_ , things will turn out quite differently."

Eto placed a hand over her face and extended an arm outwards, her lone kakugan shining in the darkness. "i wonder about that." A sharpened blade made of hardened muscle erupted from the girl's shoulder. Kaneki felt something cold cut him in the cheeks.

The boy stood there in an almost trance-like admiration as he stared at the bandaged ghoul's kagune. Just like Touka's, it came from the shoulders—like a wing. But at the same time, they were quite different.

Touka's kagune often reminded him of a burning fire. At times, it even shone with the beauty of constellations. Like the feathers of a majestic, fiery peacock.

Eto's kagune was solid, like a block of ice. Its texture dominated by an incomprehensible mess of wrinkles and bumps—a pareidolia-invoking design that tricked people into seeing things that weren't there.

"What are you waiting for?" Banjou's words snapped him out of his reverie as the man grabbed him by his arm. "We are going!"

He let himself be pulled along.

* * *

They continued to run for another minute or so. Their legs long since tired and tingling with a strange numbness. Kaneki had a feeling that their stamina wasn't going to last much longer at this rate.

"I can see the exit!"

The booming voice of a leader.

"We're going to make it out alive right?"

The innocent question of a child.

"Yes! We are!"

The elated voice of a relieved mother.

Kaneki's stopped in his spot. "I'm heading back."

Banjou's footstep stopped as well and looked at Kaneki as if he was insane. "What?"

Without answering, the boy whipped his body around and dashed towards the opposite direction, leaving a flustered Banjou to reach futilely after him. "Kaneki. Wait!"

The boy did not turn around.

He really hated himself for being such a wimp that he couldn't even see his own decisions to the end. Though, he hated himself even more for constantly making bad decisions.

He wondered what he was thinking when he decided to run away from his problems again and shove the responsibility onto others. He asked himself for the whereabouts of the strong resolve he felt when Hinami's mother died.

If he had been more vigilant and not let himself get carried away, perhaps none of this would have happened.

It was all his fault. The fault of his inactivity. The fault of his weakness.

He ran faster, his body moving at a pace way faster than what he thought possible. The scent of Takatsuki was getting stronger by the second.

As he made his way through the forest, he caught a glimpse of a figure on one of the rooftops of Aogiri's hideout. A ghoul with a perpetual smile.

The sight of another enemy made him slow slightly, albeit temporarily, as he forced himself to press forward. The presence of another enemy was just another reason that he had to go and help.

With a powerful leap, he slid into the air above his enemies, his dual tentacles swinging violently.

What happened after that, he couldn't remember.

* * *

A/N: ...Hi...


End file.
